by Lisa Rector
Catrin could not calm Trahaearn down to ascertain any information about Einion.
“EEowwW! It hurts! Someone fix my wing,” Trahaearn moaned.
“Easy, boy.” Catrin placed her hands on his wing and sent healing energy into it. “Your favorite person is here,” she said, knowing Trahaearn would appreciate the humor over all the pain.
“Catrin, I’m glad you’re here. Oh, yes, that feels much better. Oh, golly”—his stomach rumbled—“someone bring me a deer or something!”
Catrin laughed. If Trahaearn was asking for food, he was definitely feeling better.
“Trahaearn, you have to tell us what happened to Einion.” Catrin glanced at Urien, who had laid his hands on Trahaearn too.
“Maybe it’s best I show you. I don’t want to say it. It’s too terrifying.” Trahaearn shifted his weight, and the emryn healers moved to avoid being trampled. “Sorry, my legs are cramping up. I can stand.”
“We’re almost done,” one of the healers said. “You’ll be as good as new.”
“Urien, come over here and hold the stone with me so Trahaearn has to relay this only once,” Catrin said. “We should both see this firsthand.” What atrocities would she see?
Together Catrin and Urien held the stone. Trahaearn showed them all the images from the moment Einion and Rhianu landed on the snow-covered platform at the entrance to Gorlassar. Fury built inside Catrin as she watched Rhianu unleash her dark power and take Einion in a stranglehold. She gasped, outraged, as Rhianu bashed Einion in the head. She felt the pain as Trahaearn’s bones broke with the final hit, knocking him unconscious—a mercy. Thankful, Catrin did not have to watch as he fell. That would have been awful.
I knew it! It was Rhianu! Catrin tried not to feel so childish, but she wanted to rub this revelation in everyone’s face. Trahaearn looked as though he was going to cry, and Catrin’s heart broke for him. She felt his heart break. Trahaearn was as big a baby as dragons came, and his separation from Einion was harrowing, to say the least.
“Oh, Trahaearn, I’m so sorry.” Catrin leaned forward and did something she never did for him before—kissed him on the cheek. All the petty annoyances between them were gone. They had a vendetta. Neither of them would stop until Einion was recovered.
“So we can assume Rhianu took Einion with her beyond the wilderness,” Urien said. “I can’t think of any other place where they would have gone.” Urien sent a messenger into Gorlassar to relay the new information.
“I’m concerned about this evil power, Urien. I don’t understand it. Where does such power come from?” Catrin asked.
“The First Evil. Its essence broke free when she touched the barrier. Rhianu is possessed. You felt what Trahaearn saw. You heard Rhianu’s words. The essence is an evil so strong it seeped from her very pores, coming from her mind, hidden these long months.”
“Cysgod, who is said to be imprisoned, is the evil? She calls him the Dark Master?” Catrin asked. “How can that be? How can he possess her?”
“Catrin, can you not feel it?” Urien asked. “When we leave the Dragon Realm, the world free from the Evil, the only place it cannot permeate, and step into the mortal world… Can you not hear its whispers, its taunting, its tempting? We’re better able to withstand its pull because we’ve been away from its influence, but it’s still there. It called to Siana and took her away from me. Catrin, it has its fingers wrapped into my granddaughter’s very being. I do not know how. She might not know what she’s doing.”
His granddaughter. Catrin had so much hate for Rhianu that she forgot she was still her brother’s granddaughter. Rhianu was her grandniece!
“Rhianu knew exactly what she was doing,” Trahaearn said. “Don’t kid yourself, Urien. You felt what I saw. I watched as Rhianu became closer and closer to Einion, and I did nothing to stop it. She’s devious. Some souls cannot be saved. She could have been playing us from the beginning. How do we even know she actually lost her memories?”
“How close are we talking?” Catrin asked.
“Catrin, this is no time for jealousy,” Urien said. “You can settle misunderstandings when we make sure Einion is safe. We had no idea Rhianu’s intentions were otherwise. Mother trusted her.”
“Mother did not trust her. Mother let circumstances unfold just as she always does. If she thinks Einion needs to suffer for Rhianu’s choices, she’s wrong. This is not acceptable.”
“We cannot stand in the way of agency. It’s a law. As our seer, Meinwen cannot intervene. She can only bestow guidance.”
Catrin growled. “I know. But accepting the law doesn’t make it any easier to endure.”
Urien nodded. “We’ve wasted enough time. Trahaearn, can you fly?”
The healers removed their hands and awaited more orders. The emrys stepped back as Trahaearn stretched his wings and reared on his hind legs. He roared, and snow threatened to fall from the cliff face.
“Careful! We don’t want to be buried in an avalanche,” Catrin said.
“I’m ready!” Trahaearn replied.
***
Catrin and Urien arrived in the dank river town of Islwyn near midnight. They were escorted into the Great Hall and were given food and drink, but Urien waved the servants off and waited patiently for Lord Cadoc to be woken. Catrin sat on a bench, tearing at a piece of bread. She swallowed her mouthful and stood when Lord Cadoc strode into the room with his rich, heavy robes a mess behind him.
He was not pleased to see them.
“What’s the meaning of this? I’ve been informed that units of your dragon army have set down on the plains. You had better explain yourselves this instant!” Cadoc rasped.
Urien bowed in respect to Lord Cadoc, and Catrin followed suit.
“My lord, it is not at all what you suspect,” Urien said. “We’ve come in service—for your protection. We fear an uprising from across the wilderness.”
“Uprising? How? Nothing ever comes across that wasteland.” Lord Cadoc almost looked amused.
“King Einion has been taken prisoner by a Dark Emrys who serves Cysgod,” Catrin said. “We’ve learned of a dark dragon army led by Cysgod’s vessel, and we’re afraid they have an agenda.”
“What agenda?” Cadoc asked.
“Rolant is along the border of the wilderness,” Urien said. “The Dark Emrys will attack here first. We won’t allow that. We plan to take battle to them in order to spare as many lives as possible over your soil. We’ll engage them over the desert. But we’d like your permission to gather in the plains. The flight from Gorlassar is long, and the dragons will need rest before battle.”
“Well, your asking permission is a formality, as you’ve already started your rally.”
Urien inclined his head. “It was a courtesy. We plan to make a defense here whether you like it or not. As I said, your country lies on the most accessible border to the wilderness. The enemy will attack there.”
“Where did you obtain your intelligence? Surely your patrols haven’t ventured so far into the wasteland,” Cadoc said.
“You’d be surprised. We’ve been scouting the borders of the wilderness for some time. Many of our dragons have abilities that make them very resourceful.”
Cadoc waved his hand. “Fine. I’ll support you in this. I want my people spared. We’ve barely recovered from the prior conflict.”
“As you recall, we weren’t the cause of that. Blame your predecessor,” Urien said.
Yes, blame Caedryn. Rolant’s prior ruler, who had caused much trouble for Ahnalyn and Aneirin. Anything that came from across the wilderness was evil. Caedryn was evidence of that, and Rhianu was solid proof.
Catrin could not wait for retribution.
***
Urien and Catrin did not wish to continue the night in the unwelcoming citadel in Rolant, so they left to rendezvous with the dragon army. Catrin stood with Urien, under the light of the near full moon, gazing out at the wilderness’s parched sand.
“You should rest until morning,
Cat. You’re exhausted,” Urien said.
Catrin ignored the statement. She was more than exhausted. She was restless. “Can you feel it, Urien? Close your eyes, and tell me what you see.”
“Their army is much larger than we realized. The darkness gathers and spreads on the far side of the wilderness. Very few of the lights are half-emryn, Catrin. They’re a dark army indeed. Where the darkness gathers, there’s a void, blocking our perception of the light. I wonder that we’ve never accurately assessed this before.”
“To me, it feels as though a veil has been lifted, and we are now able to see the enormity of what lies beyond the three realms. Originally, I think, Deian cast a veil to prevent us from seeing this.”
Urien crossed his arms over his chest. “You’re right. Mother and Father said as much once they returned to Gorlassar after Einion’s coronation.”
“And no one ever told me!” Catrin cried. Further evidence that I shouldn’t have left Einion.
“I’m sorry, Catrin. But we do not hear the voice of Deian as the High Emrys does. We have to accept her judgment. But still… had we known, we would have intervened before this.”
“Deian wants us to take action now,” Catrin whispered.
“I fear this shall not be as the War Between the Realms. This is dragon against dragon, rider against rider, brother against brother. This is very grievous.”
Catrin sighed. “You make my heart heavy.”
“The greater question I’ve been asking is, why didn’t I come for Siana sooner? Much of this could have been avoided if the emrys weren’t set on ignoring the mortals for all these long years. Siana could have been recovered eons ago,” Urien said.
“I wish I could’ve told you that myself. I haven’t been alive for as long. I have a feeling I would’ve been much like Siana, if I’d been born in her place. Rhianu could have been my daughter. You’re not to blame. Siana had her agency. Short-sighted blindness and indifference to the events outside our world pushed Siana to seek more.” Catrin took her brother by the arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. “I shudder to think what the world is like across these borders. You’re right, the darkness grows.”
Catrin gazed into the night. Hardly any light shone before them, only behind them in the camps of the emrys. She couldn’t help but notice a faint light, which flickered in her mind’s eye, on the horizon in the southeast, apart from all the others. It moved steadily away from them.
“Urien!” She pointed. The light’s route moved as though it fled from Gorlassar’s entrance.
“I see it,” he said.
It had to have been Einion’s light. Catrin knew its trace—his distinctive mark. She squeezed Urien’s arm.
Einion had crossed to the other side of the wilderness. He was in Morvith.
Einion, oh, Einion. Forgive me, Catrin cried.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
FOR THE ONE YOU LOVE
The first discomfort Einion noticed was the pounding of his head. He vaguely remembered waking periodically during the flight to Morvith and passing out as they crossed the border only to wake now.
His light’s energy automatically set to the task of healing his wound—a skull fracture. He could see the break in his mind, the jagged edges cutting into the gray vital parts of his brain, swollen from the injury. If he had been mortal, he’d be dead. It was a miracle he was even conscious. A dry, stiff substance coated his neck. Einion knew without touching it that it was his blood. And he couldn’t touch it. His arms were pulled out to his sides, each held in an iron-tight grip with fingers biting into his flesh.
His captors were half-emrys. Einion could sense that right away. Dark half-emrys. Their dull light was no match for the darkness that filled the void in their heart-centers. They held him firmly, with his head drooped uncomfortably forward. Einion didn’t waste his strength to lift it.
Einion continued to feign unconsciousness. As his awareness became clearer, he could sense others in the room. Two others, and one was definitely Rhianu. What had happened to her? She was all darkness, not a single speck of light left, but in her womb. Thank Deian for that. The child had not been harmed when she changed. All emryn children started out as a bright light—part of his light and part of Rhianu’s light. His stomach churned. Their child. He wanted to throw up. How could she do this? How could she do this to them? Was their friendship nothing? Had he misunderstood her all this time?
The darkness had burst through her like an explosion. He saw it happen with his own eyes. His own eyes! And she had laughed. Einion would never forget that sound. He’d heard Rhianu’s laugh, like beautiful, ringing music, plenty of times before. But the laughter Einion heard on the ledge was like a knife blade scraping flesh from the bone. It hurt. Oh, Rhianu, what have you done? A stabbing pain dug into his heart.
Trahaearn? Was Trahaearn all right? He could hear nothing. Their bond was severed. Trahaearn!
“His feelings are plain to see, my dear sister.” A man’s voice, merciless and arrogant, broke through Einion’s anguish. “You’ve torn his heart out. You should have fed it to his dragon.”
Painfully grazing his wound, fingers slipped into his hair along the scalp, wrenching Einion’s head upright. “Don’t be a fool, we know you’re awake. Your feelings became evident when you woke.”
Using every effort expended to focus his sight, Einion rolled his eyes up at the man. He was much like Rhianu—dark skin with chiseled cheeks. His shaven head enhanced his menacing aura, and his eyes revealed an ancient soul. He was clearly far older than Einion. A negative vehemence distorted his countenance.
“You used my sister and destroyed her virtue,” the man hissed.
“Any virtue she had was gone long ago,” Einion said, stunned he could speak, stunned his voice and words betrayed his hurt.
Rhianu’s brother punched him in the stomach, causing Einion’s legs to give out. His captors let him fall to his knees, and his hands hit the stone floor.
Rhianu stifled a cry.
Did she care? Why would she cry out?
“Don’t hurt him, Meuric.” Rhianu’s voice commanded. Whatever emotion had made her cry out was gone with those words.
“Rhianu, you still love him. How could you? You swore against it.” Though Meuric spoke with sharp words, Einion detected an underlying protective tone for his sister.
She doesn’t love me. No one could love someone and do this to them.
“Never mind, Meuric. That’s my own business,” Rhianu snapped.
“You don’t deny it. It makes you weak.” Meuric’s voice dropped. “We’ve been through this. Let me take care of him, and you can forget you ever loved him.”
“Enough of this!” she shouted.
“You carry this light-bearer’s child. What of that?”
Einion looked up to see Meuric, his body rigid with challenge and his hands clenched in fists, standing in front of his sister.
“The Dark Master thought it a fit punishment for a crime committed. Let me bear the consequence of that. It is not for you to question, Brother.”
Meuric’s tone eased. “Punishment… Rhianu… I never realized. Forgive me.” He respectfully inclined his head to Rhianu. She laid her hand on his crown, and her fingers curled, squeezing gently before she let go.
Meuric spoke again. “What of this one?” He nodded to Einion.
“Get him out of my sight. Have him taken back to Caer,” Rhianu said.
***
The Dark Emrys dragged Einion down stairs into a foul dungeon with Meuric leading the way. After long minutes and rough gripping of his arms, they came to a stop inside a chamber. The cell was carved right out of a mountain—a seamless prison. The entrance had no door, but Einion knew they wouldn’t need a door to hold him. The half-emrys halted and turned Einion to face Meuric.
Einion waited, bracing himself for the blows he knew would come. He looked up into Meuric’s face, daring him.
Standing tall, Meuric rubbed his chin, looking pensive. “I c
an cause you much pain down here.” Meuric paused for effect. “Though from the feel of the wretched organ, no pain I cause will be equal to that of your broken heart. It amuses me. You don’t even know if you loved her. Makes me want to extend a sliver of mercy. A sliver, mind you.
“Though I have many methods of torture, I prefer hands-on. The damage to my hand adds fury to each strike.”
Meuric hauled back his fist.
The first blow came to Einion’s stomach, knocking the air out of him so no cry escaped. He was so weary that he couldn’t even gauge the intensity of his suffering, but the hit had left a mark. Another blow followed without a break.
Einion fell to his knees.
And another.
The guards lifted him back up. Einion lost all track of the attacks and Meuric’s cursing and ridicule. Blow after blow. Mentally, Einion was numb to them, but physically. . . His insides bled. His skin purpled. Blood pooled in his mouth, and Einion let it drip onto the stone floor. His light was unable to keep up with the healing…
Meuric extended a mercy punch to the face, and Einion lost all awareness.
***
Shivering, Einion woke on a damp stone floor in a completely dark room, but he couldn’t spare any energy to project a light.
He couldn’t move. His body hurt all over. Einion did an internal inventory of his injuries: spleen ruptured, liver bruised, ribs cracked, jaw broken. If he had a light, his torso would look deep purple—he was sure of it. This healing would take a long time, longer since he was brimming on the edge of despair. Curse Rhianu! Curse Meuric! A blow to the heart, such as one from betrayal, caused a loss of light. Physical pain was easy to heal, but emotional pain didn’t heal so simply.
Einion called out to Trahaearn. Still nothing. No link, no connection. They had taken his stone. The fear of being utterly alone sealed over his heart, crushing his light. Mother! Father! Catrin! Meinwen! The four people he loved more than his own life. They couldn’t hear him from the dragon realm. If Meinwen was in the mortal realm, she might hear him with her High Emrys powers, but she was not.
